


Wilt

by clawstoagunfight



Series: Worth 1000 Words [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Flowers, Gen, Guilt, Lydia is a flower, Peter feels bad, Poor Lydia, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawstoagunfight/pseuds/clawstoagunfight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter watches as Lydia slowly wilts away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilt

**Author's Note:**

> Un beta'd so all of the mistakes are mine.
> 
> This is a 1000 word prompt based off of the title word.

Some days it’s hard for Peter to look at her, to see the bags under her eyes, to see the shadows that lurk in her murky green depths; to know that he is responsible for her sleepless nights and nightmares. He knows she hasn’t slept well in weeks, knows it by her sluggish pulse, unfocused eyes, and shaky hands. He sees it in the way her body tenses when she is around him, in the way she doesn’t look at him. But he can sense her fear, taste it on his tongue like the sweetest candy. He wants it, wants more, wants all that she can give him, but he doesn’t take it, refuses to. He can’t bring himself to wring the fear from her body, to waste all her beauty and intelligence on himself. She isn’t perfect, but she’s the closest thing he’s ever found and he can’t bring himself to ruin her. Lydia Martin possesses the one thing that Peter has always dreamed about and craved; immunity.

He hasn’t spoken to her since the night she raised him from the dead. He supposes he really shouldn’t be surprised that she would want to avoid him. He knows he is the fodder of her nightmares, because he put them into her mind. At first she intrigued him. Lydia Martin, holding so many hidden talents. She seemed to be just a poor, lost girl, desperately trying to hide who she is from the rest of the world. And Peter could understand that, in a way. In another life, he could understand what it’s like to pretend to be something you’re not, to worry that some stroke of separation, some simple thing could happen, make people really see you, make them fear you and the power you possess. For Lydia, it was her intellect and immunity; for Peter, it was the wolf.

If Peter were a different man, he would’ve maybe felt a little bit of guilt. He’s spent the last few weeks watching her. He sees the way she pushes the people around her away, sees the way she isolates herself from everyone, the way she refuses to fall apart over Jackson leaving. He sees her strength, her beauty as she fights against the feelings and emotions threatening to overwhelm her. But he sees, too, the toll they take on her body—on her mind. He sees the crushing burden she carries. He knows it is the weight of memories and scars he left behind, left inside of her mind. He knows her now better than anyone else, knows her fears and her joys, knows what makes her feel vulnerable and weak, knows what makes her feel strong and confident. But he also knows she doesn’t feel much anymore, knows that she lives in a wake of stoicism.

He sees her drifting more and more each day. He sees her pale skin wan, color with the bruises under her eyes. She is less vibrant, turning into nothing but the muted mold of what she used to be. She is turning into an overexposed photo, fraying around the edges, lightening until there’s sure to be nothing left, until she just drifts away on the page, until not even a mark of her remains.

The truth of the matter is that Lydia Martin is wilting away, and Peter can do nothing but watch.

He thinks, not for the first time, how she reminds him of a flower. How she did, even from the first time he saw her, beautiful and blooming with color and scent; tantalizing and intriguing him with her petal soft skin. He knew then that she would be useful, but he could’ve never dreamed of all that she could do for him. For she alone gave him the gift of life, gave him back something that he didn’t even know he was missing. She made him _feel_. And now she was paying for that—for what she gave him—paying for it tenfold.

She’s so like a flower—like the flower he gave her once—small and fragile, but able to be used for great destruction, able to be manipulated into achieving what he wants. She was nothing but a pawn to him, in the beginning. But watching her now, seeing her slowly lapse and abate under the elements he has inflicted on her, it hurts a part of him, a place deep down that he thought had been burned out of him.

Lydia is his flower. She is his hope, breathing life into him like the first breath of spring, turning him green and warm. But now, she’s turning cold and pale, her petals withering and dying, falling away piece by piece, settling on the ground around his feet until all he can do is watch them turn a sickening shade of gray, try to pick them up but feel the life drain from them as they slip through his fingers.

He did this. He took what was real and effervescent in her and twisted her into this fractured, torpid, deteriorating form, all so that he could live again. He took everything from her, used her life force, worked his way so far into her mind that she cannot recover from what he’s placed there. Now, Lydia is more of a shell of a person than he ever was, even when he was buried beneath the floorboards of the house his family died in.

Peter can do nothing now but watch as she struggles through the consequences of what he’s done to her, watch as her hands keep shaking when she’s near him, watch as she tries so desperately to fight the fact that she is falling apart, to not let anyone see that Lydia Martin is weak. But Peter knows; he knows that Lydia is one of the strongest people he’s ever met. She is strong even when she is falling apart, even when she is slowly fading into the background, even when she is wilting away.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love this prompt and it's something different for me, so I hope you all like it.
> 
> As always, any and all comments and/or criticisms are accepted and appreciated!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
